Authors: Deborah Brown
I covered my face with my hands.
“Elizabeth wasn’t much of a drinker,” Miss January continued. “I like vodka,” she giggled. “She was always,” she paused, “I mean Elizabeth, would pull me out of the bushes and help me home. At least I think it was her. Some of the time, anyway. That young hottie who lives next door to me at The Cottages, sometimes he picks me up and carries me home. I like that a lot.”
Someone let out a loud burp. Another person clapped. I sat motionless, afraid to look around.
“You need a chair up here!” she yelled. “When the guy from before said it’s hot in this place, he was right. Besides, who wants to stand, anyway?” She swayed from side to side, then tried to grab onto the standing flower arrangement next to her. She missed and fell slowly to the floor, pulling a few long-stemmed gladiolas from the vase in a last-ditch effort to recover.
Mr. Vanderbilt, Quattro, and another man raced up the stairs, to the podium and Quattro picked her up. “Don’t worry folks!” Quattro called. “She’ll be all right. She’s just drunk.” He carried her out.
Mr. Vanderbilt moved to the microphone. What was he doing?
“I’m the owner of this funeral home,” he said. “My name is Dickie Vanderbilt, but I prefer Richard. I can honestly say I’ve never had such a tremendous turn out. I want to thank all of you for coming. I’m sorry about the air conditioning, and whichever one of you dies next I promise the unit will be repaired by that time. Think of Tropical Slumber Funeral Home for all your burial needs.”
“Enough of this,” I whispered to my mother and brother. I flew out of my seat, raced to the podium before another person could walk up, and I gave Mr. Vanderbilt a shove at the small of his back, pushing him from the microphone.
“Hello. My name is Madison Westin. I want to thank all of you for showing your love and support by coming out on such a hot day to say good-bye to my aunt, Elizabeth Hart. She loved life, loved her family, and was a generous friend. This concludes the service today. The graveside service will be family only.”
The main entry door flew open. “We’re here!” shouted a young boy who ran in with a blonde woman behind him who appeared to be his mother.
Everyone turned around, and I smiled. The young boy was laughing and jumping up and down. He was wearing a shark tee shirt, and was holding a cage with a lizard in it. So far, he looked to be the best part of the day, even though I had no idea who he was.
“Well done, sis,” Brad said. “They’ve started to leave.”
“This is the most undignified funeral I’ve ever been to. What would Elizabeth have thought?” I wrapped my arms around my brother for a reassuring hug.
“Who’s the man headed our way?” Mother asked.
“I came over to introduce myself,” the man began. “I’m Tucker Davis, Elizabeth’s attorney. I was one of her closest personal friends.” He smiled, extending his hand. He looked to be in his fifties and then some, tall and greying, with a slick air of self-satisfaction.
My mother and brother shook hands with him.
“I don’t shake hands,” I said to him. My mother looked shocked, and Brad laughed. I ignored them. “Funny how you and Elizabeth were such close personal friends and she never once mentioned your name.”
“Madison,” mother scolded. “Today has been a long day for all of us, Mr. Davis, and this wasn’t quite the ceremony we expected.”
“Really?” Tucker said. “I thought everything went smoothly.”
It was clear to me he didn’t give a damn what Elizabeth’s family thought. I felt awful for my mother who had just buried her only sibling. This wasn’t the kind of funeral that brings closure.
“I need to set an appointment for the three of you to come to my office for the reading of the will,” Tucker continued, “possibly in two to three weeks. My assistant, Ann, will give you a call.”
“The three of us are here now,” Brad told him. “You can do the reading as soon as we’re done here.”
“Today isn’t good for me,” Tucker said.
“My mother’s returning to South Carolina,” Brad told him, “and I run a fishing business. It’s the middle of the season and I have to get back to work. If you can’t make time today, then give us the will and we’ll read the damn thing ourselves.”
“I agree with Brad,” I said. “Based on experience, you’ve been hard to get hold of. We’re here now, so let’s get this over with.”
Anger flashed across Tucker’s face and disappeared just as quickly. “Fine. Be at my office in two hours. And don’t be late since I’m being so accommodating.” He turned and walked away.
“He’s definitely a man used to telling people what to do,” I said. “Dealing with him won’t be easy.”
“What a tool,” Brad said. “Madison, you’re going to have to keep an eye on him. When you’re around him I’d keep one eye over your shoulder, if I were you.”
“Calm down you two,” Mother said. “Everything will be fine. Elizabeth wouldn’t leave her affairs in a mess. She was very organized. She would’ve left her paperwork in order, and clearly spelled out.”
“I certainly hope so,” I said. “He acts like he has a personal stake in the estate and doesn’t want to share. And I hate the evasive way he answers my questions. Having to work with both him and his unfriendly assistant will drive me crazy for sure.”
“He’ll loosen up when the two of you start working together on settling the estate,” mother said.
“I still can’t believe that Elizabeth is dead,” I sighed. “First her death, then this ridiculous funeral, and now the reading of the will, which will make it seem even more final.”
Brad tugged on one of my red curls. “I’ll find Dickie Vanderbilt and make sure everything has been taken care of. I wonder if anyone just calls him Dick.”
The three of us laughed.
“He prefers Richard,” I mimicked.
My mother smiled. “Wasn’t he an odd little man? He stood at the podium and tried to solicit business!”
“I’m going to walk around, say good bye to the lingerers and push them out the door,” I said.
“Find out about the blonde who showed up at the end of the service,” Brad said.
“You’re not going to try to pick up someone up at a funeral, are you?” I asked, staring at him. Brad stood six feet tall, with sun-bleached hair, and the look of the boy next-door.
“Elizabeth would get a good laugh if I hooked up with a good-looking blonde at her funeral,” he said.
“What about Madison? Maybe, we could find someone to introduce her to,” mother suggested.
“Oh no, you don’t. You first. How about Brad and I fix you up with the man who had the naked hula girl on his shirt?”
“And did you notice that the shirt gave the illusion you could see inside the grass skirt?” Brad said. “I’ll go deal with Richard. Madison, you get rid of the rest of the people and go find the blonde girl.”
“What about me? What am I going to do?” Mother asked.
“Behave yourself, and we’ll be right back. I know. Go outside and smoke.” Brad winked at her.
“Nice, Brad, encouraging Mother to smoke. No ‘Son of the Year’ award for you.”
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